


You're The Only One I Trust To Do This

by QueenoftheHobbits



Series: Short Stories and Prompt Prompts [17]
Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 19:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15613818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheHobbits/pseuds/QueenoftheHobbits
Summary: Prompt: “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”Character: Steve TrevorWarning: N/A





	You're The Only One I Trust To Do This

“Y/N, can you come here for a minute?!” You heard the call and stopped stoking the fire, following the voice you found Steve just off from the camp that you and the others had made. A razor was in his hand, his mess tin filled with what looked like shaving cream and a brush.

“You hollered?” You take a moment to just take him in. Every second of this war reminded you to take things in, to commit things to memory. Steve’s face being one of them. The blue of his eyes, the hair that had started to grow out on his jaw and cheek again. 

“I don’t have a mirror…and i’d rather not cut my throat open, help me shave?” The razor is in his palm, held out to you and you take it kneeling in front of his sitting form. You put the razor in your pocket for a moment.

“Why not ask Charlie?” You were sure one of the others would be better at this then you, but then you had known Steve the longest, you had both spied together. Both done what society said you really shouldn’t. You did the job that most others didn’t want to do. 

“You’re the only one I trust to do this.” 

“Don’t let them hear you say that” You tease as you take the shaving cream brush, slopping the white cream across his jaw, neck and chin. You’d seen Steve shave before, but the mirror the lot of you usually carried around had been broken so badly that it was unusable. Steve for some reason refused to go around with a beard of any type. 

You’d helped your father shave a few times, the older he got the more help he needed and you had steady hands. Taking his jaw in one hand you lean his head back to give you a better angle with which to touch the razor to his skin.

You take your time, concentrate, ever careful of the sharp blade against his neck. Steve on the other hand revels in the contact, in the care you take, in the trust he puts in you, in the slide of metal against his skin. It is oddly relaxing despite the blade against and near his through, despite the fact he has to put so much trust in you.

But then this job meant he had had to trust you time and time again. 

“There. All done, as handsome as ever.” You pull back, grabbing a rag from your pocket to clean off the razor blade, before flicking it closed and handing it back.

You watched Steve run his own rag over his skin, removing any ounce of shaving cream, before running his hands over his jaw and neck feeling for any missed spots. Of which there were done.

“Thanks, Y/N, maybe I should ask you to do this more often. You might be better than me.”

“Better than ‘Above Average’ Steve Trevor?” You gasped.

“Shut up.” 


End file.
